Little Dead Boy
by Lieutenant Axel
Summary: Casper revisits memories of his life as a human boy.


_((Author's Note: Casper reveals the manner in which he died in one of the movies. He died of hypothermia because he stayed out sledding for too long, not from any kind of abuse. I wrote this as a spin off of a project, just to see if I could put my own twist in the story~))_

Casper never could understand why his uncles hated him. He was always polite, and always respectful. To everyone. Why was that a bad thing? Why did he have to be so cruel to make his guardians happy?

Casper sighed, and continued scrubbing the floor. After this, his chores would be done, and he could go to bed. At least he didn't have nightmares often. Come to think of it, did he even have dreams?  
He shook his head, and dunked the brush in the soapy water. As he scrubbed, he let his mind wander, questioning how he worked. Questioning his uncles, and inevitably questioning his own existence. How could he be real? Was his life simply the nightmare of some human child? Why won't they wake up and end it?

Casper lost himself in his memories. He thought hard, and he remembered what it was like to be alive. He was happy then, when he was very young. His father died long before he could remember, so for a long time it was only him and his mother. He remembered her bright blue eyes. Her long brown hair. Her comforting arms and loving smile. He loved her. But, he couldn't remember her name. He couldn't remember his own name. And he couldn't remember the name of the man whom his mother fell in love with. Casper was human then. A human boy, six years of age. He remembered the man being tall, and strong, and very handsome. His mother loved him.

A few months after his mother brought the man home, it was Casper's seventh birthday. She bought him lovely gifts in large boxes, and he remembered in one of the boxes was a brown, furry stuffed bear. He loved that bear. It was the last birthday gift his mother would give to him.  
More months past, and the man had developed a bad habit. He was always seen with bottles in his hands. He could never walk straight. And he had a nasty temper. One day, shortly before Casper's first day of school, the man's temper got the better of him. Casper wanted a blue backpack for school, and his mother bought it for him. It wasn't very expensive. He never asked for much. But the man said it was too expensive. He couldn't buy another bottle. He was angry. Very angry. And he took this anger out on Casper.  
No matter how loud he or his mother screamed, or how much they cried, the man wouldn't stop hitting him. Casper remembered the pain. He remembered flashing red lights, and his mother crying.  
Then, darkness.

He thought about the days that followed. He was in the hospital, and his mother was very worried. The man never returned. The seasons changed, and that following Winter, Casper was at home with his mom. He went outside to go sledding in the fresh snow.

The only memory after that was of his uncles… appearing next to him in a wide, open yard, with stones placed in lines through it. He remembered looking down at one of the stones, and trying to read the name. But all he saw there was a brown teddy bear.  
Casper's thoughts were broken by the echoing sound of a loud belch down the hall. It was Fatso, the largest of his uncles. The belch was followed by the gravelly, high-pitched laughter of his other uncles, Stretch and Stinkie. As they walked in, Casper was picking up his cleaning supplies. The floor was clean.

"Heeyyy, Casper!" Stretch said in a mocking tone. "You goin' to bed already?"

"Yeah, c'mon, Squirt!" Stinkie added, the stench of garlic heavy on his breath. "We were gonna have some fun tonight!"

"A-actually, I was gonna go to bed….I have a lot of work to do tomorrow s-so…"

"Work? Ah, yeah right! How dumb do you think we are?" Fatso laughed, snorting as he did so. "You don't work!"

"C'mon Casper! We like hanging out with you." Stretch floated around Casper, stopping behind him and grabbing his shoulders.

"You scream almost as loud as…the little girl down the street." Fatso chuckled again.

"A-Amy? W-what did you do to Amy?" Casper asked, shaking slightly and trying to keep his voice steady. He had been watching the little girl for a while now. She had just turned eight.

"Nothing you need to be concerned about…unless you wanna help us." Stinkie floated around him in a wide circle.

"N-no, not r-really…I just want to go to bed…"

"You're talking back again." Stretch gripped his shoulders, leaning closely to the side of Casper's head and grinning. With this he whispered, "I'm sure you remember what happened last time."

"When we taught you that ghosts do feel pain…" Stinkie said, still circling.

"And little dead boys can cry…" Fatso added, floating closer to Casper's front.

"N-no! I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to talk ba-"

"Ugh, just shut up!" Stretch raised his voice, smacking Casper on the side of his head. The smack wasn't the hardest Casper had received, but it was enough to knock him over. "What have we told you about being so damn nice!"

"It's not healthy, Casper."

"It's not normal, Casper."

"I thought we raised you better than this."

"We'll teach you a lesson."

"Maybe if you see evil, you'll learn to be evil."

His uncles chuckled deeply, and as they beat him, the brown teddy in his room fell to the floor. That night, Casper was taught one lesson, over and over again. No human hears dead boys cry, or scream. No one cares if dead boys bleed. He was alone, he was crying, he was bleeding. And now, there was no death to save him.


End file.
